


Malware Detected

by Dart, Falln_Grce



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Caring James Bond, Getting Together, I Don't Even Know, Looters, M/M, Pre-Slash, Protective James Bond, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This was completely inspired by today's news cycle, Virus, no actual violence shown, possible apocalypse, talk of violence, what is the world coming to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23137912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dart/pseuds/Dart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falln_Grce/pseuds/Falln_Grce
Summary: For all that he fought against terrorists big and small in his duties as Quartermaster of MI6, Q had somehow always known that the evil that finally did the world in wouldn’t be a flashy criminal overlord determined to pontificate on the merits of chaos and disorder.No. Q had always believed it would be an evil so banal, so unassuming… like a silent but swift-footed virus that set off a global panic, the likes of which had never been seen before and were too many and violent to stop.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84





	Malware Detected

**Author's Note:**

> With the whole pandemic thing going on, I honestly couldn't help myself. Seriously, I sat down and 4K+ words came out.
> 
> This was not what I intended to write tonight.
> 
> UPDATE: This story now has 2 authors!!! The wonderful Dart and I will be writing more chapters for you to enjoy! When the muse hits, it just hits. And you gotta just say okay and follow it down the rabbit hole...

It was a virus, in the end. Just a virus. Not that the everyday person had the time or inclination to go looking up the history of mankind in relation to a virus... but honestly, it was just a virus. No different from the flu really. No different from the numerous other viruses that had been unleashed in recent years with promises of “this is the  _ big one!”  _ in all the media outlets. 

Except, it wasn’t just a virus. 

It was a plague. Not really, but yes, totally a plague. Inasmuch as they had the resources to quarantine and treat the symptomatic, or didn’t have for that matter, it was as bad as a plague. 

Tell 7 billion people to stay home for two weeks to prevent the spread… It was never going to happen. 

Employers weren’t about to let it happen. 

And in today’s economic climate? The average person couldn’t afford to just  _ not _ go to work. 

So the hopeful governments released their encouragements to get their respective citizens to ‘self-quarantine’ and for some reason they actually believed it would be enough. 

The more realistic voices argued that their country’s leaders needed to address the real concern about a lack of adequate medical resources to support the heavy influx of ill persons flooding healthcare centers. Three guesses on how much their compatriots in government listened to them… 

So in the end, it was a simple virus that did it. So simple in it’s make up, that no one had ever prepared for how fast it would become airborne and spread. And no one had prepared for the delayed onset of symptoms in the people who’d contracted it. Which meant that one person on a bus, or a plane could infect virtually every other passenger.

And no one would know. Because by the time every passenger made it to their destination, they weren’t feeling the effects of being ‘sick’ and had no reason to believe they were a danger to anyone. 

But the virus could spread. That was the beauty of it all, from a completely objective view. It was amazing how easy it was; a person didn’t need to be actively showing signs of being sick for the virus to spread to another, and another, and another… two weeks later, when they came down with ‘flu-like’ symptoms, it was already too late. 

It hit the elderly first. And then the kids. If anyone in those two camps was already immunocompromised, it was pretty much a given that they didn’t stand a chance. 

For all that he fought against terrorists big and small in his duties as Quartermaster of MI6, Q had somehow always known that the evil that finally did the world in wouldn’t be a flashy criminal overlord determined to pontificate on the merits of chaos and disorder. 

No. Q had always believed it would be an evil so banal, so unassuming… like a silent but swift-footed virus that set off a global panic, the likes of which had never been seen before and were too many and violent to stop. 

It started on a Thursday. 

The anarchy, not the virus. 

The virus itself was bad enough, but the rate of death was barely more than four times what the typical flu season would’ve claimed. 

Yes, people were sick. Yes, anyone with a tickle in their throat or a mild fever stormed emergency rooms across the globe. And yes, many of the cases would have an excellent prognosis if they received proper care. 

Was an expected death toll of roughly forty to fifty thousand worldwide bad? Also yes. But was it an extinction event? Decidedly  _ not. _

The thing that made this virus so different, was the media attention it was getting. To be more plain, the fear mongering going on in the media. 

Q blamed the Americans. 

It was always a safe bet to blame the Americans. But really, no one blew things out of proportion like the Americans. Not that Her Majesty’s citizens were so much more sophisticated, but the looting and the riots… that started with the Americans.

\----

\----

\----

The virus had been in the news for about four weeks when James turned up at Q’s door. His door at home. Not the office door. This was an important distinction because Q’s home address was classified, and it didn’t matter how ‘efficient’ of an agent Bond was, he  _ shouldn’t _ have been able to gain access to that information.

Regardless, James was at Q’s door. 

“What could you possibly be doing here?” Q demanded as he swung the door open.

“How did you know it was me?” 

“I have video of the hallway,” Q replied, dismissing it as irrelevant. “Now answer me, what are you doing here? And while we’re on that,  _ how  _ are you here?”

James ignored the second question. “You weren’t in Q-branch. Are you going to invite me in?”

He didn’t want to. He really didn’t. But there was something about James’ face; a tightness around the eyes that hadn’t been there in recent months whenever they spoke. 

It had taken some time, especially after James had come back from the dead,  _ again _ . His disappearance with Dr. Swann hadn’t been a presumed death though, more a metaphorical one. The death of his career, at least. 

But even that didn’t last against Bond’s phoenix-like tendencies for resurrection. He’d gone on an extended hiatus, five years worth, with Dr. Swann to parts unknown. But within a month of being back in London, sans doctor, he’d been reinstated as an MI6 agent. Not a double-oh, but an agent nonetheless. 

Ten months had passed since then, and Q had outfitted James for seven separate missions. In a shock of all shocks, James had been a  _ delight _ to work with, and Q wasn’t being sarcastic about that at all. 

James returned every piece of equipment he could - sometimes it really was unavoidable. He behaved on the comms, never went dark, and hardly ever went off-script. He was the best behaved little-agent-who-could that Q had worked with yet. It was just completely  _ odd _ that it was James. 

He’d even, Q suspected, been the one responsible for the fresh pot of tea and snacks on some of the nights when Q was working into the wee hours. He’d been alone in the branch on those occasions, and he’d never picked up on there being anyone else coming and going. But he’d stepped away from a task more than once to see that someone had left him reinforcements. 

He’s totally lying, he knew for a fact it was Bond. The man hadn’t been discrete enough not to use his personal key-card to open the branch doors. Q had checked. Also, there was camera feed of him doing it. 

So, while they’d never gotten around to talking about James’ disappearing act five (now almost six) years ago, they’d settled into an easy, mutual respect. Q honestly enjoyed Bond’s presence, and he believed the feeling was mutual. 

To see him now, stood on Q’s doorstep with a  _ concerned _ expression, was mildly alarming. 

He stepped aside for James to come in. 

“I just spoke with Felix,” James started, and he didn’t need to explain. Q was aware of the friendship between James himself and Felix Leiter, the CIA operative from Langley. “He’s worried about this virus on the news.”

“Medical already put out notices about it, they’re not thinking it’s going to get that bad.” 

James nodded, no doubt having read the same emails that Q had. “It’s not just the sickness. You’ve seen what’s happening, people are prepping for the end of days, not just  _ washing their hands _ like the notices are saying.” 

And it was true. Q had noticed he was running low on some household essentials just the day before. He’d gone out to the nearest shop, but ended up having to stop in at several stores, nearly four miles from his home being the farthest, to get a single roll of toilet paper. 

“I’m sure it’ll die down soon. People always panic over this kind of thing.”

“That’s just it. It’s  _ not  _ dying down, it’s escalating. The U.S. has already closed its borders, schools and businesses are shut down, stores can’t restock fast enough. Q, Felix said they’re already seeing looting in the cities.” 

Q went to grab his mobile from the bedroom. Surely if there was a crisis happening in the U.S. his branch would’ve called him in. He was on a much needed day off, but this would’ve taken precedence. 

There wasn’t a text, but his email showed that someone had in fact sent him a very watered down version of what James said. 

“Hang on,” James called as Q heard his phone go off. He made his way back to the front room just as James was hanging up. “Thanks Felix, stay safe.”

“Worse?”

James looked him in the eye, face grim. “Baltimore’s on fire.” 

Q strode to the countertop, snatching up his tablet and pulled up a feed that showed the American city indeed burning. Literally, and figuratively. Buildings were on fire, and with the mob in the presumably thousands, he didn’t think the emergency services were going to be able to do much. 

Unfortunately for the people who lived there, the buildings were tightly packed together. It wouldn’t take much for the fire to spread. 

This was much worse than he thought. 

“Get your things,” James said quietly. “I’ll drive.” 

Q looked back up at the business face of his agent (friend?). He was hit with the sudden, momentary paralysis that always came before a life changing event. And just as suddenly, he felt a moment of thanks that his cats had passed away two and two and a half years ago, respectively. He had no idea when he’d be back home. A week at least, probably two. 

But if this panic spread to London, Q wouldn’t be let out of the tunnels of MI6 for so much as a spot of sunlight until the city was safe. 

“Do we need to grab anything on the way?” Q asked, already walking down the hall to put some clothes in a bag. He knew without looking that James was following. 

Tossing two empty bags on the bed, Q kept a third for himself and emptied his pants drawer inside before stuffing shirts and cardigans in as well. 

James took one of the empty ones and wholesale swept everything off of Q’s bathroom sink in. He did the same with the medicine cabinet before tossing in the shower contents. 

“Another bag?” James asked, stuffing a few towels in the one he had, just to keep everything inside stationary during transport. Q was filling the extra one with trousers and a couple pairs of shoes. 

“There’s some backpacks in the front closet, and a gym bag.” 

James disappeared, carrying the two bags from the bed along with him, and Q could hear him rummaging through the kitchen a moment later. 

“Isn’t this over reacting?” He asked after bringing the last bag and a pillow out to the front door. 

“No,” was all he got back.

“But it feels like giving in to the panic, doesn’t it. I mean… this is ridiculous.” He had to be the voice of reason here. He just had to. This had to stop. 

“Q,” James started. But he didn’t get to finish. 

The ringing of Q’s mobile was echoed by James’ own going off. For Q, it was Tanner, calling to tell him to get to Six now. Without any delay. 

But for James, it was Felix again. 

His call didn’t last any longer than Q’s had. But when he put it back in his pocket, he turned back to Q and gave him another heavy stare. 

“That was Felix again,” he said. “He’s taking his wife and going dark. There’s a mob in front of the White House.” 

“What?!” Alarmed had been an understatement.

“Q. They’re going to take the White House, there’s too many to stop.” 

“What…”

James dropped the bag down to the floor and came over to take Q’s shoulders in a gentle, but also firm hold. “Is there anything else you want from here? Plan on not coming back.”

“What… no. I just…” Q was smart. He knew that if the Americans fell, England would be half a step behind. He knew that. But it was just a  _ virus  _ for God's sake. 

“Q,” James called, refocusing him. 

“My blanket. Um... From my bed. I love that blanket.”

“Not any books? Music? Anything from the living room?”

Q shook his head, “No, it’s… it’s fine. Oh, the toilet paper.” 

“I already got the toilet paper.”

“No, from the linen closet. I had the damndest time finding any the other day. I bought a giant pack when I finally found a store that hadn’t been ransacked. The  _ heathens _ .”

James chuckled at his put upon tone, but went back down the hall to the bedroom for the blanket and toilet paper while Q shook off the daze. 

They carried their load to the car, arms leaden with bags, blankets, pillows, and toilet paper.

“James,” Q spoke up when they were approaching the underground entrance. “I… Thank you.” 

He didn’t get a verbal reply, but when James reached over the console to grab his hand and give a light squeeze, it was better. 

They carried their bounty down to Q-branch where Tanner was waiting. The crew waiting for them was something Q would consider ‘skeleton’ at best. And he quickly realized it was only comprised of the people who didn’t have much family outside of work. 

Jessie, a young single mom working in Q-branch had a very young child (maybe three, four?) with her. But other than that, his usual staff of fifteen-plus was down to six counting him. 

Tanner got him up to speed rather swiftly. The White House was still holding, but only just. No one was optimistic. 

France was seeing protesters, Germany wasn’t faring any better. The Canadians hadn’t made or accepted contact, Mexico wasn’t reachable though there were still contacts in South America. North Africa and the Middle East had cut off internet communication. India was a nightmare. China and Russia were holding. 

A virus. A simple, little virus had swept the world up into a frenzy, setting off a series of firestorms across the globe. Absolutely ridiculous. 

James had stashed the bags in Q’s office before he saw him disappearing back out the glass doors. But he couldn’t be concerned with that at the moment. They had work to do. 

By the time he saw James return, several hours had passed and London was seeing it’s first instances of looting. Thankfully, there were no fires set. Guards had been posted at every access point to the building itself, and Q was happy that their new building had been set a little bit away from the old Vauxhall after it had been demolished in the Nine Eyes/Spectre debacle. 

They were a little more fortified now, a little more current in their safety measures, and a lot more distant from nearby structures. 

No one else from his original team had come to join them. And outgoing calls to locate his staff were being ignored. Well. Five souls out of fifteen. He’d take it. 

When James did return, it was only briefly. And only to carry a futon, a nice high-end one if the quick once over was any indication, into Q’s office before he disappeared again.

Two hours later, Tanner’s voice jolted Q out of his monitoring of the latest video feeds from around London. “Bond! If you and Trevelyan have been joining in on the looting of this city, I’m reporting it straight to M.” 

Q looked up at the two of them in time to see Alec give James a quick side eye, a nervous gesture on anyone else.

“I used a credit card.” James replied, still frozen where he and Alec had stopped. 

Which was when Q saw they were wheeling in dollies of boxes. Some had images on them, some were just plain brown. But he noticed one was for an espresso maker. 

“Plan on making many payments, do you?” Tanner shot back. 

James and Alec both sent him matching grins before Tanner waved them off. Sometimes, Q admired the fortitude it took to maintain a constant cool facade the way their Chief of Staff did. He certainly didn’t envy the man his position. 

After the third trip of dollies with Alec and James, Q stopped them. He hadn’t been in his office to check what they were up to, but he figured he might need to make it a priority. 

“I do have a desk in there,” he called ahead of himself. “There’s no way that many boxes are going to fit. And my office is  _ not  _ a storage closet.”

“Now pet,” Alec tried, stopping him at the door with placating hands. “We’re moving out the desk.” 

“You bloody well are  _ not _ moving out my desk, and I’ve told you how many times not to call me that.”

“Q,” James called over. “The desk has to go.”

“Just what the hell are you two doing in here?” Honestly, James couldn’t possibly think he was going to what? Barricade Q from his own office?

“You’ll see when it’s done, promise,” Alec assured him. But he could hear James moving things around inside and was that a drill? “Now off you go, the sky is falling remember. Work to be done.”

Just as he threatened, after Q returned to his computers, James and Alec came out with his desk, setting it aside the wall right next to the door. 

It took a lot of patience, but he didn’t check in on their activities. Even when the fourth load came down, and then the fifth. Just how much had James purchased in the few hours he’d been gone? And  _ why _ had he gone back out there after seeing Q to safety? 

It wasn’t until a few hours after that, when Q had been tempted away from the monitors to sit down for something to eat that James emerged from the office door to invite him inside. 

He knew his office was bigger than one assumed, but with his desk being as big as it was, and his random gadgets in every nook and cranny, he hadn’t taken the time to really look at it. 

The structure itself, being underground and made of stone arches, lent itself to easily defined partitions. 

James had set up the futon in a small corner in the back, with curtains on the openings at the foot and the exposed side. His blanket and pillows were on top, but the mattress seemed to be thicker than what likely would’ve come with a futon. Q didn’t imagine it could be folded like the design intended. 

The shelving he’d had along the other walls had been either removed or repurposed to act as a pantry and countertops next to an actual fridge (flat sized) and a single burner in the place where his desk once sat. And of course, there was the espresso machine.

James had also put in a drawer unit and used more of the shelves across from the foot of the bed in an almost closet/dressing area for him. 

The bathroom had already been there, it wasn’t like James and Alec could have built him one. But they’d moved his shower and washroom things inside. They’d even put in a towel rod and hooks, and he could see new bathrobes hanging up on the wall. 

“How did you two do all of this?” he asked in wonder, though Alec had disappeared. 

James gave him a kind smile and shrugged his shoulders. “We were bored.”

He didn’t know what to say. 

“Alec was coming back from retrieving M’s family, he caught me on my way out.” James continued. “I was already going back out to get you a bed, but he convinced me to take one of the trucks and get more than that.”

“We don’t have any trucks in the garage.”

“Well, we do now.” Clearly, James was not troubled by a little grand theft auto. “Look, we’re on lockdown, Q. Things won’t be getting better out there anytime soon. And if you’re going to be on point trying to monitor all of it, you should at least get to be comfortable.”

“What about you? Where will you be?”

“I’ll be here,” James said, quietly. “Tanner and M sealed off the building. No one out, no one in. There’s bound to be meeting after meeting coming up. We’ll all know soon enough what the long term plans are, you might even need to help make them. But I’ll be here.”

Q gave him a long, considering look. And then gave the room one as well. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked. 

James shook his head. “I was waiting for you to take a break.” 

Q gave a warm smile, first to his feet as he ducked his head, and then up to James. “Well I’m taking that break now. Did you want to join me?”

A smile given was a smile returned. 

They did end up having dinner together in the mess. The cooks were all gone, but M and his wife were in the back putting together enough food for all who’d stayed. 

It was less than he’d hoped. The whole extent of the ones left in the building filled  _ maybe  _ half of the dining hall. It looked very grande and empty with so few people. But he saw some more families who’d joined, and his full line up of double-ohs, some assorted agents and support staff, and a few other execs. 

It was good to see them all. The streets might be filled with riots and violence at that very moment, but he was happy they had the people around that they did. 

Sleeping arrangements were made for the others; mostly unused offices with couches put together. But after the meal, Q wandered back down to his branch with his computers, live feed of the chaos and the promise of a soft bed when he was done. 

He ended up staying awake long past when he’d planned on stopping. 

The situation outside wasn’t any better. Virtually all metropolitan areas around the world were in a state of emergency. The angry mob back in America had finally stormed the White House. It was now burning, and Q feared their own Parliament wouldn’t be far behind. It’d been a while since he’d had any transmission from them anyway. 

Shaking his head at the chaos, he quietly turned away from the screens. 

Sitting right outside his office door was a decent sized duffel that hadn’t been there earlier, and Q thought back to all those times that James snuck in and out of Q-branch without his knowing. Strangly enough, inside the bag were clothes that he knew weren’t his own. He assumed they were James’ and felt a bit sad at the thought that the man had gone through so much that day to get him  _ things  _ when he had so few of his own. 

Still, not seeing the agent anywhere nearby, he brought the bag inside. 

When he opened his door, the very first thing to draw his eye was the soft light coming from a new lamp that James must have set up earlier. He’d missed it somehow in his earlier perusal of the changes.

It gave the room a more homey feel, and he recalled less and less of what it looked like only hours prior. 

But what really caught his eye was the bed. Or rather, the bed’s occupant. 

James was laying down, eyes closed and clutching the pillow he was using. He was facing the door, knees tucked up just a bit. Something about the lack of shoes made him seem smaller, softer. 

Q tried not to wake him as he set about changing into sleep clothes and seeing about his nightly routine in the bathroom. But when he returned to the side of the bed, he watched James blink his eyes open. 

“I fell asleep.” 

Q snorted at the obvious comment, but also at how adorably confused James looked while saying it. “Come on. I’ve got your things here,” he stepped away only to return with the duffle bag. “Get changed out of the jeans at least.”

“What?” James was still sleep mussed. “Where did you get my things?” 

Q tilted his head down at him. “You left them outside the door.”

“No I didn’t.” 

“Ah.” Q took a deep breath. “Perhaps Alec made the decision for you. Now really, I must insist. You can’t sleep in what you’re wearing. Surely you have something in here that would be more comfortable.”

James considered him for a few moments then stood and shucked his jeans and top off, leaving him in pants only. At which point he promptly turned down the covers he’d been laying on and settled back down for sleep. 

Q smiled at the simple ease of their being around each other. And having no complaints whatsoever, turned off the light and crawled into bed himself. 

Again, no complaints. Not even when James reached across the mattress and pulled him in closer, tucking him against a warm chest with a steady heartbeat to lull him down into sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot for now, just to appease the muses who don't let me sleep until it comes out. It might turn into more, we'll see how it goes.
> 
> Update: I would like to state for the record, I absolutely did NOT think Baltimore would be the site of the some of the first real violence to kick off during the current health crisis. I’m from Texas; if anything, I thought it’d be here. But apparently several people were shot there just the other day. To anyone reading this fic who is from Baltimore, the connection was unintentional, and please stay safe!!


End file.
